


Luck be a Lady

by SerChristoph



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Humour, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-05 01:44:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17909630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerChristoph/pseuds/SerChristoph
Summary: Private Ortega has always found the long, hot days of patrolling the Mojave incredibly boring. Luckily, she's got the Courier around to make things a little interesting. (Male Courier / Ortega).





	Luck be a Lady

**Luck be a Lady**

The hot sun beat down relentlessly on the dry, crusty ground. The heat rose in thick, shimmering waves from the dirt itself, the scant wind in the air doing little to alleviate the temperature. Private Ortega adjusted her helmet to block as much of the sun’s glare as possible, the wide brimmed cover the saving grace of her heavy armour. Tugging at her collar irritably, she longed to get back to the barracks and wash the sweat and grime away in a blissfully cold shower. Still, as much as the heat gnawed at her, it was better than being on the front lines toe to toe with the Legion. There she’d be unbearably hot _and_ at risk of being shot. She wasn’t afraid of getting into a fight however, just that she’d seen first-hand what Legion soldiers counted as acceptable warfare. They were little more than scumbag raiders in her eyes, except that there were a lot more of them and they were more organised and had a reputation for mistreating their slaves.

Still, she should be careful she supposed. Even though she wasn’t on the frontlines, a recent transfer to Boulder City had put her much closer to the dividing line between Legion and NCR territory. It wasn’t as openly hostile as she feared though. The Legion hadn’t been too active along the river in recent times. Though there was always that chance.

Ortega idly paced around the ruins of Boulder City. Her official duty of the day was to patrol the ruined town. Right then and there however, there was nothing worth patrolling. Save the Big Horn Saloon of course, the sole attraction in this pile of rubble. There were plenty of sentries all along the river as well, so she felt secure in not taking her current duties too seriously. She paused in her amblings in front of the large stone memorial that stood guard over the entrance to the town. The names of all those killed in the First Battle for Hoover Dam lay upon it. A chill went down Ortega’s spine as she took in just how many were listed there.

“Hey, Private Ortega!” A teasing voice reached her ears and she turned irritably to find a figure strolling towards her. The man was armoured in dark leathers, with one sleeve missing half way up the arm. A worn red headband adorned his brow and was accompanied by his stubble laced grin. That and the Pip-Boy fastened to the man’s arm told Ortega that the fabled Courier Six had arrived. She rolled her eyes at him but a smirk wormed its way to her lips, at least her day was about to get a lot less boring.

“Have you delivered a single package yet Courier?” She chastised him as he approached. It was this game they played, he gave her stick for guarding nothing but a handful of lazy farmers or an empty town, she gave him the same for not doing his job. It helped pass the time if nothing else.

“Sure, just handed a Deathclaw egg to the Ultra-luxe, they’re gonna cook it up for me dinner. Might make a change from all the humans they’ve been eating.“ Six chirped with a grin.

Ortega merely shook her head with a sigh. “I’m still not sure whether I believe you or not for that one.” She regarded him with a raised eyebrow. “I mean, cannibalism on the Strip, really?”

“I was in the kitchens myself,” He held up his hands in to placate her, “If I hadn’t have been careful, I’d have ended up as the stew.” Ortega snorted at that, shaking her head ruefully at him for making her laugh.

“Did you want anything or where you just here to get me into trouble again?” She chastised him as she glanced around surreptitiously for any wandering superior officers who might have been strolling by, thankfully none were forthcoming. In fact there were no NCR personnel anywhere in sight. At one time she’d have been alarmed by that, particularly given their proximity to Hoover Dam and their border with the Legion, but now she’d come to accept the NCR’s shortcomings.

“Relax, just passing by. Making sure you’ve got your eyes peeled for any mole rats on the prowl.” The Courier walked on towards the saloon with an easy grin. “You never know when their gonna rise up and take the city by force. You’re the last line of defence remember.” He chuckled over his shoulder.

“Very funny.” Ortega muttered dryly at him and turned away with a scowl.

She remembered very vividly how a group, a herd? a troupe? of mole rats had somehow gotten into the farms under the cover of night and proceeded to eat the meagre crops. She still had no idea how they’d gotten in there. Six had happened to be passing by at the time and offered his services to help. The Private and the Courier had managed to save most of the crops, killing or otherwise driving off the mole rats. Regardless, as the soldier on duty at the time of the incident, Ortega had received what could only be politely referred to as a stern talking to by her commanding officer. The Courier teased her relentlessly for it. She half expected him to be behind it all somehow.

Shaking the unwanted memories, Ortega tried to set her mind back to her actual duties for once. She didn’t consider herself a bad soldier, but God knows that patrolling absolutely nothing all day could be so _boring_.

“Hey, Private!” The call from behind snapped her to attention.

Half fearing to see a Captain or a General, Ortega spun round on the spot only to find the Courier walking back over to her.

“At ease, soldier girl.” Six chuckled at her, she merely glowered at him. “Seeing as you’re so incredibly busy, how about a drink?”

“A drink? I’m on duty.” The Private narrowed her gaze at him suspiciously.

The Courier gazed about theatrically, “I don’t see any of your superiors about, or anyone else for that matter.”

“Not now, sure, but as soon as I put one foot inside that saloon, the entirety of NCR military command will come pouring out of the rubble, just you wait and see.”

He laughed at that, “Come on, I’m pretty sure you’re safe. If anyone does come looking for you, well, we’ll … just say that I kidnapped you.”

Ortega raised a sceptical eyebrow, “In broad daylight, all the way to the saloon a whole twenty feet away?”

“There’s no one around to witness it.” He grinned mischievously. “It’s the perfect crime.”

“You’re ridiculous.” She shook her head with the hint of a smile, then gazed around herself conspiratorially, “Well, I guess I could have a quick one, nothing alcoholic though.”

“That’s the spirit soldier girl!” Six linked his arm with hers, “We’ll make a rebel of you yet.”

“Keep dreaming mailman.”

The pair strolled into the saloon. It was completely empty, save for the bartender standing idly behind the bar. He looked up at their approach, almost in shock that anyone had actually payed his establishment a visit. The Courier swiftly ordered a couple of Sunset Sarsaparilla’s, noting that ‘one of us is on duty’. Ortega scowled at him for that. Still, it was unlikely the barkeep would turn her in, if nothing else so as to keep up the potential business. They took a table by the windows, despite the dust and dirt that clung to the glass, the powerful Mojave sunlight shone through clear. Ortega was happy just to set her rifle down and get off her feet for a while, she didn’t realise how much they ached until she took the weight off.

“So,” Six began with a sparkling grin, “Come here often?”

“Only when being kidnapped.” Ortega replied dryly, earning her a chuckle.

“Well then, I’ll have to make sure to kidnap you more often.” He winked at her playfully.

Ortega merely shook her head at his foolishness. _He’s lucky he’s so damn charismatic_ , she thought idly. Maybe if she was actually caught slacking off and court martialled, she could use him as her defence lawyer.

“So what are you actually doing out this way then? Thought you’d be living it large up on the Strip?” The Private prodded with a teasing smile.

“Not today, just got some business in Novac, running errands for a friend.”

“Running errands? How mysterious.” Ortega repeated with a raised eyebrow, Six merely shrugged in reply. “What is it you even do anyway? For a Courier you never actually seem to be delivering anything.”

Six chuckled at that. “Sometimes I do play the courier, you know, when the caps are good. I just do odd jobs you know. Help a settler here, shoot a legionnaire there, just trying to do little bits of good around the Mojave.”

“You make it sound like no big deal.” Ortega narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. “From what I hear you’ve made a hell of an impression on this place.” She indicated the saloon, the town and everything beyond. “Even here, you were the one who got those hostages out of Khan hands, right?”

“Guilty as charged.” He confessed with the hint of a smile creeping from under his modest facade.

The Private chuckled a little into her bottle. “You ever thought about enlisting? I reckon the brass would swipe you up in a heartbeat if they could.”

The Courier rubbed at his stubble laced chin for a moment before answering. “Not gonna lie, I had considered it once. There are a few good people in the NCR.”

“Just a few?” Ortega quizzed with a raised eyebrow.

“Present company excluded of course.”

She flipped him off at his laugh.

“But err, I guess with my dealings with some of your bosses and colleagues … let me tell you there are some real pieces of work in the NCR. Sometimes I wonder if they really have the Mojave’s best interests at heart. God knows they don’t seem to put their all into it, most of the time anyway, unless there’s something in it for them. So let’s just say that I’m … disenfranchised a little.” His gaze drifted out of the window at that.

Ortega’s face fell a little. Maybe it was just that she was a proud patriot, but hearing such qualms about the cause she had given her life to was, well, was a little disheartening. Worst of all she couldn’t completely deny his words.

“I know it’s not perfect, the NCR is stretched pretty thin right now and all. And hell, you don’t have to tell me about some of the jackasses we’ve got in the higher-ups. But it’s got to be a hell of a lot better than chaos though, or Legion control, which is more or less the same thing.” Ortega offered, not entirely sure if she was trying to convince herself or not. “Can you honestly imagine that anyone else would be better for the Mojave?”

“Fair point.” He conceded with a smile. “Unless I take over of course.”

She chortled at that. “Keep dreaming mailman. I can just see you ruling over us all from you’re ivory tower. I thought you’d be more interested in laying back in your Jacuzzi than ruling us all like the tyrant you are.”

“There’s no Jacuzzi up in the Lucky 38, trust me, I’ve looked.” Six smirked.

“Well that’s disappointing,” Ortega put on a pout, “and here I’d heard that you were the stuff of legends.” She teased. “What kind of legend doesn’t have his own Jacuzzi?”

“Really? You need a Jacuzzi to be a legend now?” He chortled with a raised eyebrow.

Ortega merely shrugged. “I’m pretty sure you haven’t killed a dragon or got a magical sword or anything, None of those left in the world I reckon. Besides a Jacuzzi is more fun, surely.”

“I don’t know about swords, but I can do you a fancy revolver.” Six smirked and reached down to fiddle with his holster.

“I think there’s a line about there being something in your pants, but I’m not going there.” She raised a humoured eyebrow.

“Promises, promises.” He winked at her, earning him a roll of her brown eyes.

He brought free a gleaming black and white revolver, laying it flat on the table. Ortega eyed the gun for a few moments. It was certainly a fine looking weapon. The metalwork was expertly decorated with thin gold etchings and the word ‘Lucky’ was engraved into the barrel.

“Lucky? Really?” She raised her eyebrow with amusement at his choice of weapon. She received a scowl in return.

“Yes, Lucky.” He scoffed back at her chuckles. “If you’re _lucky_ then I might let you hold it.”

“I’m good thanks. Mine’s bigger anyway.” She snickered and reached to draw her own rifle that was propped up at the side of the table, she wagged her eyebrows at him playfully as he chuckled.

“Stop it, you’re making me blush.” His cheeks did no such thing. He picked up his bottle and took another swig. “We can compare sizes later.”

Ortega smirked playfully, “I’ll hold you to that mailman.”

A series of shouts outside jostled the pair from their quiet conversation. Ortega instantly turned to look out of the window, through the grime she could make out a group of figures approaching the saloon. Her eyes narrowed, this looked like trouble.

“I take it these aren’t your superiors?” The Courier quizzed with half a chortle as he gazed out of the window with her.

“No. Do you always make a joke out of everything?”

“Yes.” He flashed her a smile.

The Private sighed in mild irritation, looking down to eye the revolver still on the table. “Are you willing to use that, if things get hairy?”

His smile turned into a smirk as he picked up his gun, colder than any she’d ever seen him wear. “Always.”

Ortega wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that. For a moment, she had to remind herself that she’d never really seen the Courier in action before. She’d only heard the rumours and stories that wormed their way through the barracks and bars of the Mojave. The man in front of her was literally a living legend. Now she had the chance to see some of the legend in action.

“Follow me then, I’ll take the lead.” She ordered with a stern look as she picked up her rifle, entering soldier mode in a heartbeat. “This is NCR territory, remember? I’m in charge here.”

“Aye, aye ma’am.” The Courier flashed a hearty salute at her words. Ortega merely rolled her eyes and prayed that he wouldn’t do anything stupid.

The pair left the saloon, weapons held low, not threatening, but at the ready just in case. Getting a better look at their guests, Ortega noted that they wore a ramshackle collection of clothing, metal parts attached as makeshift armour, not unlike those of scavengers or raiders. She also noted that they were all armed. In total the Private counted five of them. Though outnumbered, Ortega wasn’t overly worried. Raiders were rarely much of a threat to anyone with some proper combat training.

“Raiders,” The Courier confirming her suspicions, “five on two. Seems a little unfair … on them.”

Ortega chortled lightly. “I hope you’re not thinking about giving them a hand.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Six raised his revolver and loaded the chambers with ease.

“Just don’t go in guns blazing, let me talk to them first.”

Six eyed her dubiously for a moment. “You know this is gonna go south pretty quick, right?” He muttered seriously.

“Oh, definitely.” She almost smiled, cocking her rifle with rhythmic ease. “That doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t give them the chance to surrender first though.”

“Ah, my gallant hero, saving the Mojave one drugged up raider at a time.” He smirked a little sarcastically, “I knew there was a reason I put up with you.”

“I thought I was the one putting up with you?” Ortega narrowed her gaze.

“Hush dear, the children are here.”

The raiders were merely twenty feet away now. Their own weapons drawn but likewise hanging limp, just in sight to make their intentions clear. One of them walked, more staggered really, forward a little towards the Private and Courier.

“What you want, ey? Scavver!” The slurred rambling shout of the raider rang out across the dusty wasteland. His shout was met with cheers from his friends.

Ortega almost rolled her eyes, the raiders were clearly drunk or stoned out their minds, probably both. It was a ‘tactic’ the raiders often employed, with wide varying effects. She’d seen first-hand how drugged up raider attacks could be terrifying, but she’d also seen how it could be a complete shambles. This effort before her looked to be one of the latter.

“Put down your weapons, now!” The Private shouted, her rifle still low but keeping her finger hovering just over the trigger.

“Or what? Sweet cheeks!” One of the other Raiders shouted back, to the apparent amusement of the others. “What you gonna do? Flash us!” Even more raucous laughter followed his words.

“Can I shoot them yet?” Six murmured irritably to the side.

Ortega was tempted to say yes, but if she’d shot every single moron who’d been cheeky with her in the past, there wouldn’t be much left of the Mojave. That and she didn’t have enough bullets. So she merely shot Six a glance that said ‘patience’.

The Courier sighed but held his revolver still, palming it behind his back casually.

“This is NCR territory,” The Private continued unabated, “If you do not put down your weapons, we will be forced to take action. Surrender yourselves now and you will be treated fairly-”

“We don’t want no fair anything! We just want you dead bitch! You and your little boyfriend there! You two, are gonna be in the ground real soon!”

“How sweet, they can count.” Six drawled sarcastically.

Before Ortega could retort with anything, one of the Raiders shouted back again. “What you saying scum?” He waved his weapon up at the Courier. The other Raiders followed suit. “Speak up!”

Ortega drew her own rifle level, aiming it at the apparent leader. “Six …” She warned under her breath.

The Courier hadn’t even raised his own revolver yet. He leaned his head back with a smirk as he shouted back to the Raiders. “I was just saying, I’m amazed that you can count up to two, you clearly don’t have that many brain cells between you all.”

Ortega sighed and rolled her eyes as the Raiders looked between each other and the Courier angrily, or maybe it was confusedly. The first Raider took a long hard stare at the Courier, then without further warning, levelled his gun and fired.

Ortega swore and fired her own rifle, catching the Raider square in the chest with a volley of bullets and sending him sprawling to the dirt. She dived for cover behind a nearby wall, bullets following her less than a second later. She cast her gaze back over to the Courier. He’d dived behind his own cover, his revolver finally raised.

“I think I got their attention.” He called over the thunder of gunfire with a barely concealed grin. He was enjoying this far too much.

“Just start shooting!” Ortega yelled back, peeking round her wall and dropping a second raider with a quick burst.

“Aye, aye ma’am.” Six offered a jaunty salute and quickly spun his revolver round the wall.

He took aim swiftly and pulled the trigger. A raider’s head flung back, a small geyser of blood burst forth from his forehead.

Three raiders down in a matter of seconds, good work to begin with. The final two had a bit more sense about them though and had taken cover themselves. Ortega noted with a grimace that the raiders were holed up in a good defensive position.

“I can’t get an angle.” She called back over to the Courier. “You?”

Six peeked around his wall for a moment then flung his head back as more bullets sought him out. “Nope. I’ll try and flank them. Wish me luck!” With that, he took off along the wall and in a second had turned a corner and was out of sight.

Ortega gritted her teeth, best she could do right now was keep the raiders focussed on her. She fired a few quick bursts over towards the raiders, they did little more than pepper the stonework with fresh holes. She caught a quick glimpse of brown hair moving along the ruined town towards the raiders’ position. She fired a few more salvos just to keep them focussed on her. The Private heard the sound of gunfire over by the raiders, and then surprised shouting.

Keeping her eye open and her head down, Ortega chanced a run up the battlefield to get a closer look. No new bullets flew her way. She could hear the sound of scuffling as neared the raiders’ last position. Reaching their cover, she swiftly vaulted the wall, rifle raised immediately. One raider lay dead in a pool of blood. No sign of the last one or the Courier. The scuffling picked up in noise, just ahead. Quickly yet carefully, she moved over the dead raiders’ body, eyes scanning every corner for signs of movement. She rounded another wall, the last Raider was wrestling with the Courier on the ground. The raider on top of Six, a vicious looking knife bound for the Courier’s chest.

Ortega pulled the trigger instantly, just clicking. She swore, she’d lost track of how many bullets she had left, a rookie mistake. Dropping her rifle, she rushed forward. A glint of shining white on the ground grabbed her attention, the Courier’s revolver. She deftly swept it up into her hands, cocked and fired once into the raider’s back. The raider gave a gargled cry, then stopped struggling and fell limp over the Courier. Six half groaned, half sighed in relief as he peered around the corpse up at the Private.

“Not bad, soldier girl.” The Courier groaned from his place in the dirt, pushing the corpse off of him with a disgusted grunt.

“You owe me one mailman.” She quipped effortlessly as she smiled through her faint panting. She walked over to him, offering a hand. “You’re lucky I got here when I did.”

“I’m sure I can think of some way to repay you.” He chuckled with an easy wink as he accepted being hauled back to his feet.

The Courier tried in vain to scrape some of the muck from his clothes. The dust and dirt of the Mojave seemed to get everywhere. Ortega handed his revolver back to him, he accepted the offering with a smile, holstering it smoothly with experienced ease.

“Whatever you’re thinking of, it better be good.” She moaned as she blissfully cracked her neck from side to side, “I don’t wanna have risked my life for some cheap booze or whatever else you have in mind.”

“How about dinner?”

Ortega turned to the Courier to find a cheeky grin meeting her sceptical gaze. “Dinner, really?”

“Why not? I can’t promise gourmet dining but I can whip up a good Brahmin steak if I do say so myself.” He flashed her a winning smile.

“Really?” She repeated, her eyes glimmering playfully. “You just don’t strike me as the cooking type, let alone the _dining_ type, more the ‘whatever comes out of the trash’ kind.” She jabbed with a smirk of her own.

He clenched his heart in fake shock, “You wound me madam.” she merely rolled her eyes at him. “Well, if that’s all you think of me, then I know that I can surprise you.” The look he gave her was suddenly intense, not in a lecherous way, but rapt. Well, maybe it was a little lecherous.

Ortega hummed in reply and pretended to think it over, though in truth she had already reached a decision, “Well, I suppose if you’re gonna be serious about it then I guess I could humour you for a while. Though don’t get any funny ideas mailman.” She warned with a look and pointed finger. He took that in stride though.

“I assure you, I only have the very best ideas.” He spoke with a velvety grin.

Ortega half chuckled at that, trying to hide the stupid smirk growing on her own face.

xxx

Warm beams of light pried through the boarded up window and roamed across Six’s face, stirring him awake with a low moan. He rubbed at his eyes and breathed deeply as he let his body wake naturally. He gazed about the dimly lit motel room with a vague smile. It was dingy and not much to look at like most of the Mojave, but it was a quiet place to rest his head, a little oasis of sorts in the middle of a wild, turbulent desert.

Sensing shuffling to the side, he turned his head and with a smile saw his sleeping companion. Private Ortega lay fast asleep next to him. Her short brown hair tousled about her head, she was breathing deeply into the pillow. Six noted with an idle smirk that the Private and he were both naked under the sheets.

“It’s rude to stare you know.” Ortega murmured, apparently not so asleep then.

“I don’t recall you complaining last night.” He purred in reply, continuing to stare.

One brown eye opened to glare at him. Then an arm pushed up from the bed and threw the sheets away from him, covering her form and leaving him completely uncovered.

Six merely smirked in reply as brown eyes roved all over him lecherously. “See something you like?” He commented idly.

“Hmm, no.” Ortega yawned and her eyes fell shut again as she curled up into the blankets she now possessed.

The Courier chuckled at her and stood to stretch himself awake, feeling her gaze wander over him again and relishing the feel of it.

“You know- man this is gonna make me look bad but,” Six turned at the sound of her voice, she was now leaning up on one arm to talk, “you’ve never told me your name? You’re real name, that is.” The Private arched her eyebrow curiously.

The Courier chuckled at that and stared off vacantly. “Well, I-” He started then came short, rubbing at the back of his neck while he searched for the right words, “I don’t even know myself to tell the truth.” He turned to see her eyes widen in disbelief. “You see, when I was shot in the head, I kind of lost my memory. I don’t recall anything before being shot, who I was or- well, anything. All I know is that I was a courier before, and even that I found out from a note I had in my pocket.”

“God …” Was all Ortega said to that, staring at him blankly. “So … do you even have a name then, or do you just go by the Courier?”

“Well, I was part of a group job the day I got shot, I was courier number six. That was the only thing about me on the job order, so …”

“Wait, your name is actually Six?” She asked incredulously, a disbelieving smile rising to her lips, she snorted most unladylike. “I thought that was just a nickname.”

“It’s unique,” He smirked at her growing amusement, “besides can you think of a better name for me?” He feigned offence, crossing his arms with a pout.

“I just didn’t expect you to say something like that.” She held up a hand in surrender though she still chuckled. “That’s not the name I would have gone with.”

“No? I guess you’d have gone with ‘God’, the way you kept screaming it last-”

He was cut off by a pillow smacking him the face. He laughed as it fell and spied a light flush on her cheeks.

“Smartarse.” Was all she said with a glare, though she did smirk after and let her head fall to the remaining pillow.

“What’s _your_ full name then?” Six questioned with interest. Ortega merely glanced at him for a moment before chuckling again, this time a tad nervously.

“It’s Estela … Estela Ortega.” Estela muttered a little bashfully.

“Pretty name,” Six offered genuinely with a light smirk. She merely glared at him.

“Do I strike you as a ‘pretty’ sort of girl?” She muttered a little sheepishly and turned in her sheets away from him.

“No,” He started with a smirk and saw her involuntarily clench the sheets around herself a little more, he moved around to stand at the foot of the bed, “But a gorgeous woman, sure.”

Estela picked her head up to glare. “Shut up.” She spat at him, cheeks more than a little red.

“Have I ever told you a lie?” he offered, hands on his bare hips.

The Private jerked her hand free from her cocoon and raised one finger, “That time you got all dressed up as a soldier and came running at me, shouting the Legion were coming.”

“That was just a joke, how was I to know you’d take it seriously and get all your soldier pals together. Besides, it wasn’t even a proper uniform.”

A second finger, “The cannibals in the Ultra-luxe.”

“I swear that was true!” He laughed, “I’d go back and find you some proof if the place didn’t freak me out so much”.

A third finger, “You never even told me your name!”

“I told you the only name I know, it’s not like I ever gave you a fake name,” he pointed a finger at her with a smirk, “And you’re just as guilty as me on that one, _Estela_.”

She scowled at his words and growled as she simply opted to collapse on the bed again. Six chuckled at her expense.

“Come on, if you really think that I’m lying, then why would you spend the night with such a nasty, deceitful man like me?” He joked.

She glared up at him again with a smirk, “Maybe I’m just using you, did you ever think of that?” She happily let her eyes rove over him again as she said so.

“Oh yeah? If that’s the case, then I guess I better put a stop to that.” He put to her with a sly smile, she raised her eyebrow curiously. “I guess I better stop walking around naked, don’t want you getting the wrong idea an’ all.”

He had merely half turned to retrieve his clothes when Estela shot up from her cocoon and was kneeling at the edge of the bed in front of him. Her covers fell away completely and now she was as bare as he. Six let his eyes wander for a change, taking in everything approvingly for a few long moments before raising his gaze to smirk at the Private’s eyes, waggling his eyebrows appreciatively.

Her cheeks were a little flushed and she shook her head gently, but she wore a bashful smile of her own on her lips. “Shut up.” Was all she said, pulling him close and opting to let her hands wander over his toned chest and back.

He replied with a chuckle and caressed her arms in return as he kissed up her neck. “Oh, I’ve no intention of talking.” He drawled with a wicked grin and pushed her back to the bed, she fell with a laugh and lay sprawled out seductively before him. Six knelt over her and kissed her gently all the way down her body.

“Oh yeah? That’ll make a nice cha- Ah!” Estela moaned as he found his mark. Six snickered against her as she writhed in pleasure.

The sun’s rays slowly swept over their bodies as they carried on, the morning blissfully long and enjoyable for both. When they finally left that motel room in Novac, Ortega received a special commendation upon returning to duty. Apparently, NCR command had received word from a Boulder City bartender of her heroic exploits against a band of rampaging raiders and saw fit to offer promotion.

Lucky her.


End file.
